


The Florence Nightingale Effect

by space0bongo



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Hospital, Angst, Gen, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-29 04:27:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 994
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/682758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/space0bongo/pseuds/space0bongo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'I'm the only sixteen year old who could bring home an older guy and have my dad root for them instead of threatening to kill them,"</p><p>“That older guy lived here for a month so your mom could spend her last moments at home, Stiles.” The sheriff says gently and Stiles’ face drops. He remembers that month; it was horrible and fun, amazing and heart-breaking at the same time. “I’m not forbidding you from anything son, just be careful.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Florence Nightingale Effect

“Derek is in his twenties,” he warns Stiles, “and alone. His expectations in whatever this is might not be the same as yours. He isn’t a puppy Stiles, you can’t return him to the store when you get bored. Remember that.”

Stiles rolls his eyes.

“I’m the only sixteen year old who could bring home an older guy and have my Dad root for him instead of threatening to kill them.”

“That older guy lived here for a month so your mom could spend her last moments at home, Stiles.” The sheriff says gently and Stiles’ face drops. He remembers that month; it was horrible and fun, amazing and heart-breaking at the same time. “I’m not forbidding you from anything son, just be careful.”

-

Stiles doesn’t remember when he hasn’t been half in love with Derek Hale.  Sure the obsession (Scott’s term, Stiles himself prefers _doting_ ) began after Derek broke practically every nursing protocol to live with them for an entire month so that Stiles’ Mom could spend her last days at home against medical recommendation.  There are only so many times a teenaged boy can see a perfect, gorgeous, chiselled (cheekbones _and_ abs _and_ glorious, _glorious_ ass) man emerge from the shower wearing just a glorified hand towel before he breaks.  But Stiles is pretty sure he was at least thinking about baking Derek cookies (and cakes and those mini tarts he loves that Stiles had to take a thousand dollar French cookery class to learn) way before then. 

“You’re crazy,” Scott tells him as he watches Stiles cut the pastry he just rolled into two dozen perfect triangles.  Stiles would take what he said more seriously if he hadn’t just shoved an entire croissant from the first (low sugar, low fat, low everything that ever tastes good because it was for his dad) batch into his mouth and then tried to spit the whole thing out because it burned his tongue.  “You do know that right?”

“You say crazy I say devoted.  Potato, P…”

“Derek’s in his twenties!” Scott shouts.  “He works with my mom!” When Stiles still ignores him Scott narrows his eyes.  “You know he’s just using you right for the food and the gifts and the expensive gourmet coffee,” There is no questioning lilt at the end of that sentence so Stiles does not respond.  “Mom says he doesn’t even take the flowers you give him out of the packaging before he gives them away.”

Stiles frowns but doesn’t say anything his attention focussed on the croissants he is folding.  They are for breakfast.  Specifically they are for Derek’s breakfast this morning—Stiles usually makes scones or bakes bread but he was told by one of the nicer nurses at the hospital that Derek really likes them and so he decided to give them a try. 

“Are you even listening to me?” Scott asks huffily when Stiles ignores him.  “Stiles!”

“I’m busy here Scott.  Why don’t you do both of us a favour and pour some coffee out in Derek’s travel mug,” He gestures at the steel and titanium mug that he bought specifically for Derek.  It stands next to the three thousand dollar coffee maker he got his dad to buy last month (‘but it’s for Derek’ Stiles had begged and if there ever was a sure-fire way to get his dad to do or buy anything it was to say Derek wanted it.  Stiles isn’t the only Stilinski still grateful over Derek’s actions that month) and just in front of the kitchen clock that blinks ‘4:30am’ in neon pink.  He still has an hour before Derek wakes up in that ruin of a home of his which leaves him plenty of time to make pancakes and eggs and crisp some of that bacon he hid from his dad last night.

-

“Hey,” Stiles smiles leaning back against his jeep when Derek emerges from his house with a face like thunder.  Derek’s dressed in his scrubs (pink to denote that for all that he practically made most of Stiles’ Mom’s last wishes come true, he is still very much in training).

“You’re late,”

“Yeah about that,” Stiles pouts apologetically as he shoves the travel mug at him.  Derek takes it immediately, sniffs delicately around the edge, and then loosens the lid slightly to take a sip.  “Scott spent the night last night because his mom’s away which you know about obviously since you work with her.  Anyway we spent the night playing videogames and this morning I must not have heard my alarm go off because…” Searching desperately through his bag he finally finds the polystyrene container inside that contains Derek’s breakfast and offers it to Derek with a shaky smile.  “I made breakfast.”

The look of relief on Derek’s face as he looks at the container makes Stiles’ smile turn into a full on grin.  _This_ , whatever this is between them (and it’s not obsession no matter how many times Scott says otherwise, or some weird co-dependency kink as Jackson calls it), is not one-sided. “So,” He says casually (or as close towards the casual side of the ballpark that he can aim), “a little birdy told me you don’t like the flowers I send you every five o’clock.” When Derek raises an eyebrow Stiles coughs.  “It’s cool you know if you…” Stiles tries to continue, he does, except Derek practically steals his breath away when he presses a firm kiss to his cheek.

“I love the flowers,” Derek whispers in a strange low voice that does wonderful (and frightening) things to Stiles below the waist (Hell it does wonderful and frightening things to him above his waist too).  “I just…old Mrs White in Ward 7 loves them more and she doesn’t have grandkids so,” He rolls a shoulder as he opens the container and looks at Stiles expectedly until he realises that for all his breakfast preparations this morning he forgot the damn plastic cutlery.

-

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a series of inconnected stories in an alternate season 1 where Derek started training to be a nurse around the same time as Stiles' Mom grew sick and for the sake of my purposes I have written that to be around a year or two before the first chapter. Derek is still a werewolf. All of the werewolfy stuff will still happen (i.e Scott will be turned, Allison will arrive with the Argents etc) but the only thing that is different is that instead of being obsessed over Lydia Stiles is obsessed over Derek. 
> 
> This story won't go into any great technical detail with regards medicine and nursing. And yes the 'Florence Nightingale Effect' is a medical term and for those in the know (or access to Wiki) it's not really what Stiles is feeling *evil laugh*


End file.
